Author Topic: This really happened.  (Read 281 times)

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Lyca

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on: 04:26 PM, 03/ 3/19
I'm a huge fan of those Reddit videos and how fake and funny the stories are.
So here's one of my own.
I'll add more as I remember them. I'm old. Remembering takes time so y'all may have to wait a while.
Mine are (maybe) 100% true of course.

I was out walking and minding my own business when suddenly I looked up and saw something kind of small and glinting falling towards me. I put my hand out and grabbed it before it hit the floor.
I noticed it was a ring, not just any kind of ring. A gold engagement ring with a massive diamond.
I thought maybe a bird had somehow dropped it but then one of my friends on Facebook who is friends with a really famous person on Facebook (she doesn't want me to name her and I'm respecting that request)
Well she mentioned in a post that she was flying out to the movie set (she was in a major Hollywood blockbuster that summer) and when she was on the plane she'd dropped her engagement ring down the toilet and flushed it.
The ring had disappeared down the toilet, out of the plane and fell through the sky until I caught it.
I found her Twitter through her Facebook post and tweeted her a picture of the ring. She actually had a tweet up saying what had happened and how sad she was to lose her ring.
She saw my tweet and was so happy and grateful that she chartered a private jet to take me to Hollywood to return the ring. I was put up in a 5 star hotel and given a full tour of the movie set.
On the fifth day of the shoot, one of the actresses hadn't shown up, so I said I'd read the script as a stand in so they could get on with the filming. They watched me and the Director said that because I was so unbelievably good they would offer me her part in the movie and fired the absent actress by text.
Of course I said yes, but only if I could do all my own stunts and choose my own dress to the Oscars. It was so much fun. Co-starring in a famous movie. I got to do all kinds of cool stuff like jumping off tall buildings and killing zombies and foiling bank robberies etc.
Obviously I'm not going to tell you all who I am, but trust me you will have heard of me. I'm really famous. You've probably heard of me and sent me fan mail at some point. I get a lot.
And that is my true story.

And just for fun, some will be really true and some will be 100% bullshit.
It's up to you guys to work out which is which.


« Last Edit: 06:18 PM, 03/ 6/19 by Lyca »
Lyca



Lyca

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on: 07:12 PM, 03/ 4/19
I was once in a Pink Floyd video.

When I was a little kid there was a show on TV called TISWAS. It was a mess of a show as it was recorded live and all the mistakes and bloopers just went out live and everyone just seemed to roll with it. I loved that show.
Anyway. One Saturday the TISWAS roadshow came to my hometown of Blackpool so I went down to see it and see if I could get on TV. I couldn't actually watch the episode because it went out live and the show wasn't repeated and at that time no-one had VCRs so I don't have a recording.
They were filming on the promenade near Central Pier. (all the shows that came to Blackpool seemed to film there)
Well TISWAS had a 'villain' called The Phantom Flan Flinger. He dressed like an evil Zorro (without the sword obviously) and threw flans at people, mainly C-list celebrities and local kids. The producer gathered a ton of the kids who'd come to watch the filming (me included) and said he wanted us to chase The Phantom Flan Flinger, screaming as we ran after him. He would run away and suddenly turn round to chase us and we would all have to scream like we were terrified and run off.
After that was over the Phantom Flan Flinger put his head through one of those things (not sure what they are called) Like a picture of a person or a scene with a hole in for someones head. The producer said it was a competition to throw a flan (it was just squirty cream on a paper plate really) at him. The one who scored the most hits would win the competition. And, he added, the prize would be fantastic.
Being the amazing shot I am, I hit all five of my 'flans' square in the middle of his face and I won.
The prize was being in a Pink Floyd music video for the song 'Another brick in the wall.. I was kinda excited, but not super excited as I hadn't heard much of Pink Floyd at that time, but I jumped up and down like it was the best thing ever because it was live TV.
They took all my details and I went home and they said I'd hear from them soon.
A few days later a very official looking letter arrived addressed to me, or rather To the parent of...
The letter said I would be in a video singing a chorus to the song  and the recording would take place in Islington, London.
My Granddad went with me on the train because my mum and dad couldn't leave my brothers and sisters on their own (plus my dad had work)
We met an assistant producer at Euston  Station and he explained that we were going to a school called Islington Green. He drove us down to the school and we spoke to the producer, a guy called Bob. He introduced us to another guy called Nick who told us he was the sound engineer.
He gave me the lyrics and told me I'd need to catch up as the other kids in the video (actual pupils from the school) had been practising for about a week. He said this was the last practice then later on that afternoon we would all be driven to a nearby recording studio to do the actual recording.
I picked up the song pretty quick, though Nick did tell me I had to try to sing with a South London accent instead of my own Lancashire accent.
I remember the studio as being small and dark.  The day seemed to go so fast. We went to a hotel and stayed the night (just me and my Granddad, not everyone else) and the next morning we went home on the train.
I remember thinking that something else would happen, like I'd get famous or something, or get in the papers, or everyone would want to be my friend, but nothing happened. I just went about my same boring life and I bought a copy of the single when it came out but no-one believed I was in the video.

Lyca



Lyca

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on: 05:23 PM, 03/ 5/19
I have an entitled parent story.

Many years ago when my son was young he did a couple of modelling shoots. (He'd won a photographic competition and the prize was a years modelling contract aged around 3)
Anyway we were at this place waiting to get pictures taken. (the kids that were invited would get their pictures taken and then the organisers would talk to the parents and the kids to see if they were a good fit and later contact anyone they wanted to hire)
We'd got there early and were close to the front. There weren't many people invited 20 or 30 or so.
At the front were benches, further back there were seats and for the last few people there was nothing.
I was sat almost at the front with my son on one of the benches. (he was an exceptionally well behaved child who would sit quietly for any amount of time)
And this woman walks up to me from the back and asks if she can go in front of me. (she has a girl with her who is older than my son, she's around 5 or 6)
I smile awkwardly and say I'm sorry but no. I tell her I can't let a parent and child cut in front because that means everyone in the queue will be pushed back one place and have to wait longer. Her kid is really grizzly and whiny and acting like a tired toddler.
Then the mum says: "Well just swap places with me then. My daughter is wants to sit on the bench, she's tired because she's been to dance this morning."
I said again: Sorry but no, my son is tired too. He's only three.
Then she was like: "Your son is fine. He's not even crying. He won't mind waiting." and while it's true, my son would have gone to the back if I'd asked him, I still told her no.
A few minutes later (her kid was still crying, much more loudly now because she hadn't got her own way, she's not far off going into a tantrum) one of the organisers came out of the audition room next door and asked what the noise was.
The entitled mum started to indignantly tell him that her daughter was tired after her dancing and no-one would let her sit on the benches (giving me the stinkiest of stink eyes as she spoke) and that was why she was crying.
She then said it would be helpful to everyone if they let her in first.
The organiser outright firmly said no. That was not the way these things worked. You get seen in the order you arrive and anyone that is too tired to wait is welcome to leave and go home.
He then added that she'd better get used to waiting around way longer that this if she wanted to continue her child in modelling.
Lyca



Lyca

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on: 05:24 PM, 03/ 5/19
ANGRY WHEELCHAIR GUY

Many years ago when I was about 15 or so (I can't remember my exact age) I was walking towards town and I saw an old man in a wheelchair on his own. (He was in his 70s or 80s) He had crossed the road of a side street but was struggling to get his chair up and over the kerb at the other side.
I was a shy quiet kid but I always tried to help people. I was worried that the mans chair would tip over. It was one of those with the big wheels that people manually wheel along themselves.
Anyway I ran up to the man and asked "Do you need any help?"
BUT as I was asking I (very stupidly) took the handles of his chair and proceeded to push it up and over the kerb and onto the pavement.
I know now it was very wrong of me to put my hands on his chair without getting the okay from him but I was young and not thinking. (This would have happened in the very early 1980s)
The man SCREAMS at me: GET OFF MY FUCKING CHAIR!! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? HOW FUCKING DARE YOU TOUCH MY FUCKING CHAIR?
I let go of the handles like they've been electrified and I start shaking. I was a very sappy 15 year old and shouting/confrontations pretty much terrified me.
I started to blub and try to say sorry but I couldn't get the words out.
The man, meanwhile is just shouting louder and louder. HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT IF YOU WERE IN A WHEELCHAIR AND SOME BITCH STARTS WHEELING YOU AROUND??!!
I start to almost hyperventilate. (I was being bullied at school at the time and had occasional panic attacks) people were coming over to see what the fuss was.
I wanted to run away but I felt like my feet were rooted to the ground and I could barely breathe. Then I kind of keeled over and ended up gasping on my knees.
Meanwhile this guy is still screaming. Really really yelling.
A couple of old ladies picked me up and someone brought a little stool out of a nearby shop. They sat me on the stool and someone brought me a glass of water from somewhere. I'd completely lost it by now. I'm in floods of noisy snotty toddler like tears. I'm trying to explain but I'm still struggling to breathe and can't get the words out.
The old guy is still yelling that I grabbed his chair and pushed him.
Then someone else comes out of another nearby shop and explains that they saw everything and that I only helped the guy up a kerb.
The two old women tell the old guy he should be ashamed of himself screaming and swearing at a 'little girl' (I was 15 but the size and shape of a skinny 12 year old)
He's still very angry and keeps repeating what I did. The women stand in front of me like a barrier and very firmly tell the man to go away and leave me alone which he eventually does.
Such a minor incident and it blew up so massively. I remember feeling so guilty for weeks because I blamed myself for the whole thing.
Now I'm an adult, I think the guy was a massive jerk, but I also think I was in the wrong for just grabbing his chair the way I did.
Lyca



Lyca

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on: 08:58 AM, 03/ 6/19
My 4yo son made me a Krushem in KFC

This was a few years ago.
I was in KFC with my 4yo son and I ordered food for us. The guy behind the counter looked kinda jaded and over the whole thing. He was rolling his eyes and acting like he didn't give a shit about anything. He put our order on a tray and shoved it towards us.
I remembered I'd forgotten to order the Krushems and said: "Oh sorry can I get two Skittles Krushems as well please?"
The guy just looked at me with tired eyes and said "No, the machine is broken." He sounded like the 'Computer says no' woman from Little Britain.
"Okay" I said with a shrug.
I was about to go back to my seat when my 4yo son tugged on my sleeve. "Mummy, why is that man lying to you?" he asked.
"Why do you think he's lying?" I asked him right back.
"I just saw that woman make Krushems for another family a couple of minutes ago." he explained pointing to a female worker.
"Well the machine has probably just broken right now." I said.
"Hmmm, I don't buy that explanation." he said somewhat thoughtfully.
At that moment he reached up to the counter standing on his tippytoes and grabbed it with his fingertips. In one quick ninja-like move, he hauled himself up and vaulted up and over the counter landing neatly on the other side. Everyone just watched in awe. He pulled up a stool to the Krushem machine and said.
"Well, lets take a look at this and find out if this fucker is telling the truth here."
He grabbed a cup and turned on the machine and it actually worked. "LOOK MUM, IT'S WORKING!!"he shouted.
He then proceeded to make two Skittles Krushems. He handed them to the woman worker and said. "Give these to my mum. They are on the house."
"Yessir." she said with a big smile. She handed them to me saying "Little Boss Man says they are on the house."
Then she picks up my son and lifts him back over the counter and hands him to me.
Meanwhile the Manager comes out and asks what is going on.
My son points at the male worker and explains what he has done to us.
The Mananger thanks my son for the info  and fires the lying, lazy worker on the spot. "I'll make sure you never work in this town ever again, you bastard." he says and he punches him in the face, breaking his nose.  The lazy worker walks out of the door to boos and hisses.
I walked to my seat with my son and everyone clapped.
« Last Edit: 09:01 AM, 03/ 6/19 by Lyca »
Lyca



Lyca

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on: 11:03 AM, 03/ 6/19
LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS

A bit of pre story info. This took place in a small shop. One of those that sold mainly newspapers and cigarettes, and bits of other stuff like milk, eggs, tea, coffee etc. In the 80s in the UK VHS rentals were really popular. So while there the big outlets like Top Ten, Blockbuster etc, many small independent  rental shops opened. Also lots of small general stores, paper shops and off licences also rented out videos. They had a much smaller selection, often limited to one wall of the shop, or even one shelf. They usually just stocked one copy of films. Most of these places requested that you would reserve the film you wanted to see. You could rent one without booking but only if no-one else wanted to see it that night.

Years ago, when VHS videos were a thing, if you wanted to see a certain movie, you had to book it in advance at some places.
Anyway, I'd wanted to see The Little Shop of Horrors so I booked it for when I had an evening off work.
I went to the shop to collect it, (you had to collect the videos after 4pm and hand them back by 3pm the next day)
So,  I'm in the shop and I see the owner is kind or arguing with a woman.
She's demanding a movie that isn't available.
I hear him say to the woman: "Leave me your phone number and if it's not picked up by 7pm I'll give you a call and you can have it."
The woman loudly moans that she wants it NOW.
Then the shopkeeper spots me (he kind of knows me because I'm a regular) and he says to the ranting woman: "I'm sorry, but the girl who booked it is here to pick it up now, but you can have it tomorrow night if you want."
The woman starts actually ranting and screaming in the shop.
The guy just hands me the movie and says, "Just take it and go, you can pay tomorrow when you return it."
I take the movie and she turns to me yelling, CRYING and screaming how her child wants to watch that movie and I'm an fucking bitch for not giving it to her.
I pretty much start running just to get away from her.
Thing is, if she had asked nicely I would have said sure, I can see it another night.

Looking back, I don't even believe she had a child. Also I can't believe how much this woman was screaming. It was like an adult version of a two year old having a full blown tantrum. It was scary but so surreal. She was full on out of control, red faced screaming and cursing and waving her hands and almost hyperventilating. I don't think I've ever seen an adult act that way before or since.
Lyca



Lyca

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on: 04:14 AM, 03/ 8/19
Smoking on the train.

I was on a train with my partner and  3yo daughter.  My daughter and I were sat next to each other with my partner opposite us, and our bags on the spare seat next to him. There was a table between us.
On the other side of the aisle, a man sat alone on the other set of four table seats. He was well dressed, in a business suit and a briefcase and looked about 30-35 years old. He was drinking a can of lager.
The train was about three quarters full so there were a few spare seats here and there but not many.
Suddenly, Business Suit Man pulls out a cigarette and lights it up right there on the train.
An old man sat close by says something like: "Excuse me, you're not allowed to smoke on the train."
Business Suit Man just replies that he doesn't care. He wants a cigarette and is having one.
His words are slightly slurry and he is clearly a bit tipsy, but not really drunk.
I was really mad. I hate smoking and never allowed anyone to smoke near my daughter.
"Can you just put it out , please?" I  asked in an irritated voice.
The dude just straight up ignores me and carries on smoking. My partner doesn't say anything because he hates confrontation even more than I do.
"Look, just put the cigarette out, no-one wants this." said up another random passenger.
Business Suit Man carries on smoking and just mumbles something like he's nearly finished anyway and everyone should just leave him alone.
Anyway, like typical British people, we stop talking to him and just throw disapproving looks at him.
Everyone close enough to see and smell him is giving him evil side eye but not saying anything.
He finishes his cigarette, swigs the last of his lager and put the cigarette butt in the empty can.
About 10 minutes after that the guard comes down the aisle to check everyone's tickets.
My daughter is holding ours as she always liked to hand them to the guard. She hands him our tickets with a big smile, he punches them with his cancels and hands them back to her saying "Thank you."
Then she pipes up "Excuse me, Mr Ticket Man, someone's been smoking on this train, and it's HIM." then she dramatically turns towards Business Suit Man and points to him with an outstretched arm like she's a judge in the Salem Witch Trials.
Ticket Man turns to Business Suit Man and asks: "Is that true? Have you been smoking?"
Business Suit Man doesn't say anything, he just mumbles incoherently but looks clearly guilty.
A few passengers speak up and say he has been smoking and they asked him to stop be he was rude and refused.
Now Business Suit Man is irritated and he starts getting agitated saying he only had one cigarette, he doesn't understand what all the fuss is about and so on.
Ticket Man reminds him that there is a £50 fine for smoking on the train and it's not allowed, ever.
Business Suit Man goes on and on, (now it's obvious he is very tipsy) saying it's a stupid rule anyway and that most people smoke and it should be no big deal to smoke on a train. He whines that no-one should expect him to go for hours on end without a cigarette. (We'd been on the train less than half an hour when he lit up)
Ticket Man says he's heard enough. He says that Business Suit Man will be arrested at the next stop. He gets on his radio and contacts the next station.
As the train stops, the police are waiting there. The police board the train and begin talking to Business Suit Man. They explain that he will now be fined but he can avoid being arrested by leaving the train and co-operating with the police, (giving all his details I assume) Business Suit Man is getting narkier by the second. He doesn't go off on an insane tantrum or anything but he does proceed to say all the same crap that he just said to Ticket Man, this time much more loudly and a little bit irate.
The police ask if he's been drinking. (he clearly has, everyone can see his lager can) He moans that drinking is allowed on trains, the buffet car sells alcohol.
The police say that being drunk is NOT allowed on trains, neither is smoking, neither is being anti-social.
Then they arrest him. They actually put handcuffs on the dude.
He finally shuts up when he realises his predicament but it's too late. You can't un-arrest someone.
A policewoman picks up his briefcase and they take him off the train.

My daughter, meanwhile is sat in her seat with a big smile on her face.
Lyca



Lyca

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on: 05:33 PM, 03/ 8/19
Dine and Dash? Not on my watch.

When I was younger my Nan owned a cafe.  (She actually had the cafe years before I was born and kept it until I was about 18 or so)
Aaaanyway,  the cafe sold really good food. My Nan was an amazing cook and her cafe was almost always full with people queuing outside the door for a table. I worked there for years when I was younger. Very probably breaking child labour laws (if such laws existed in the UK back then) I'd work from 8am till 6pm with just a half hour break to eat some lunch.
The cafe seated 60 people when full, and it was full for pretty much the whole day. Back then you had to move your ass and take the food order and get people served quickly. If people waited for more than a few minutes they would start yelling.
I was a kid pretty much ran off my feet for the whole day and occasionally I missed someone who had been waiting or I missed someone waving their hands in the air waiting to pay.
I worked with my two horrible aunties. (my evil mothers evil sisters) They wouldn't really help like they were supposed to, they would just yell at me to do all the work while they drank gin and vodka and ate cream cakes.
I was pretty mad at them but couldn't say anything as it would have caused too much trouble.
Well this one day the cafe was even busier than usual. As soon as someone got up to leave, someone would plonk their arse into the recently vacant seat before I'd even had chance to clear the table.
I was rushing as fast as I could then I noticed these two guys get up to leave. I'd noticed them when they came in as they looked kind of shifty. They kept glancing round like they were guilty of something or nervous or whatever.
They have both had steak dinners and desserts and have no intention of paying. They don't even glance towards the till or shout to anyone to bring the bill. They just quickly look around and get up to leave.
"Oi!!" I shout from the till where I'm stood.
They quicken their pace and go out of the front door.
I quickly tell my Nan they haven't paid (she's stood next to me, behind the counter next to the till)
And then, without thinking it through, I rush out of the door and turn right to follow these guys. They are walking down the street, fairly briskly but not running. (obviously they don't think anyone will follow them.) They are quite big tough looking guys.
I get close to the and shout "Oi, you haven't paid" again.
They turn around, notice me and take off running down the street and turn down an alley.
I take off running after them.
They are running as fast as they can,  but despite being big guys, they are not as fit as me.
I was on the Cross Country team at school and was rated high in my county for distance running.
I chased them for about 10 minutes or more, meandering down various alleys and they were trying their best to lose my but they couldn't.
Eventually we ended up on some waste ground behind what was then a coach station.
The guys collapse on the ground red faced and breathing hard.
I was really mad. I was in a shitty mood to begin with thanks to my aunties, and I'd just spent more than 10 mins chasing these jerks because they decided to dine and dash.
I stomped right up to them, they were still lying on the floor panting like dogs on a summers day. These dudes are really out of shape.
I thrust my hand out and said through angry gritted kid teeth.
"You'd better give me that money now or they'll be trouble."
"Just give her the bloody money, Keith." says one of the guys.
Then 'Keith' was like "Fucking hell kid, you can run, Jesus Christ, I'm knackered."  and he gives me the money and a 50p tip. (that was a decent tip at the time)
I proudly went back to my Nan and showed her the money. She was not happy. She said she was about to call the police as she thought I'd been murdered. She actually said that to me. She was like "Stupid girl, fancy risking your life for two steak dinners."
It didn't even occur to me at the time that I'd put myself in real danger doing what I did.


Lyca



Lyca

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on: 06:43 PM, 03/11/19
I've been a nude model. This may be TMI. You have been warned. It's not in anyway NSFW or anything, but yeah, possibly TMI lol

I've been to hospital many, many times. I was born with Neurofibromatosis, or NF for short. NF can greatly vary in it's severity and it can cause many, many different problems. In some cases it can be fatal.
I have a fairly mild case. Problems I have are the café au lait spots (the most common part of NF) and also, neurofibromas (mostly benign tumours) that grow all over my body. As I've gotten older I've been getting more and more of these.
I'm lucky because:
a) most of mine were very small,
b) all of mine have been benign so far
c) I've only ever got 3 on my face and two on my neck.
d) I was referred to a plastic surgeon to take the ones off my face and neck. Trust me, getting a plastic surgeon on the NHS is very rare.

Well I have a ton of these tumours on my torso. Mostly they don't hurt, but sometimes they do. They're always attached to a nerve and sometimes touching them can feel like an electric shock, or like I've had a pin jabbed into me. (it depends on where they are and how deep the nerve runs, beyond that, I don't know why some hurt more than others.)
Anyway I had a few of these that would rub and hurt when I wore a bra so the hospital agreed to take them off for me.  (I've had over 50 removed over the years)
The Surgeon met me in my waiting area and took a look at the three tumours that were bothering me. She poked and prodded them and drew round each of them with what looked like a sharpie.
Then she asked me if she could take some pictures for a teaching medical book she was writing.
I said yes because I was grateful that I was getting them removed and this felt like I was giving a little bit back.
She thanked me and gave me a robe to wear over my gown and told me to wait in the waiting area at the end of the corridor and she'd come and get me when she was ready.
I was a bit confused (I guess I assumed she'd snap a few pictures of me with her phone or something) but I went to the waiting room at the end of the corridor and sat down.
She went into a nearby room and soon came out with what looked like a couple of very big, very professional cameras round her neck. She walked to the big door at the end of the corridor right next to where I was waiting. She went into the room and asked me to follow, which I did.
The whole room was basically a massive studio with huge lights, those big umbrella things that photographers use, a big white screen/backdrop and a stage.
Did I mention there was a fucking stage??!!
"Hop up on there."she says, pointing towards the stage.
So I hopped up on the stage feeling a little overwhelmed. Remember, I've come to the hospital to get three tumours removed.
"You can take the robe and gown off now."
So I undid the robe and took off the gown I was wearing.
I'm stood there in the altogether on a stage with big studio lights shining on me and this tiny surgeon  is snapping away with her camera.
She takes pictures of my boobs then eyes up the rest of my body.
"Oh, you've got quite a few on your back and bum too, "she says. (yes the surgeon did say 'bum') "Do you mind if I get a few pictures of those ones too?"
I'm completely over being embarrassed now so I just say "Go for it, take as many as you like." . If anything I feel a fit of the giggles coming on but I manage to hold it back like the professional model I am.
She snaps away at everything, then thanks me.
"Not everyone says yes," she told me.
She gave me a note with the title of the book on it. (I checked the note afterwards and discovered I couldn't read her writing, I guess she was a real doctor)
She also told me that all pictures would be anonymous. The only info would be that I was a woman and my approx age.
I then went and got my operation done, (everything went fine, it didn't hurt a bit)
But yeah, my nekkid boobs and butt is in a book somewhere.

Lyca



Lyca

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on: 04:52 PM, 03/14/19
I once took part in an air sea rescue.

A few years ago I took a helicopter flying lesson at Blackpool Airport. It was a birthday gift. It was something I've always wanted to do. The lesson was supposed to be 45 mins long. We were to spend 10 minutes going through the controls on the ground, then I was supposed to take over the controls, 'pilot' the helicopter 20 metres off the ground, hover for a few mins and the land. We would do this twice, apparently.

So I was feeling really impatient while we were going through the controls because I just wanted to be in the air. I listened though, because the Instructor told me how important that bit was.

Eventually we got in the air. I wanted to go higher but he said  no, it wouldn't be safe. Any higher and the wind would make the 'copter too hard for me to control.

I was just about to take it down under his instruction when the radio sprung to life.

A little orange light was bleeping and  the Instructor said "You have to hold it steady for a few seconds while I take this."

I did as I was told and he put his headphones on to listen to the person on the radio.  I could kind of hear the tinny voice but couldn't make out what it was saying.

Straight away the Instructor grabbed the joystick from me and the helicopter rose higher in the air. "Scoot over and change seats" he told me. I quickly moved over and he sat down where I'd just been sitting.

I asked what was wrong.

"Someone is stranded on Salters Bank, the tide is coming in and I need to get them." He told me.

"Couldn't you have let me off first?"I asked

"No time." he replied very sharply. "I have maybe 10 minutes tops to get there."

I knew Salters Bank. Just south of the airport, between St Annes and Lytham. It's fairly dangerous because it looks so calm, like a big flat plain of sand.,except it's not flat even though it looks like it is. It's raised in the middle and lower near the shore so the tide coming also from  the Ribble Estuary can come in deceptively quickly and cut you off and you wouldn't even see it coming until you tried to walk back and just saw sea where the sand should be. The tide goes out for almost two  miles and it is possible to walk to the estuary markers (I've done it) but you have to know the tide times.

Anyway we were in the sky now, and banking left towards the bank. I would have enjoyed the flight if not for the circumstances.

I could see the bank and the sea all around it. The mound of sand was about 50 meters wide but it was shrinking rapidly. I could see a guy stood in the middle waving his arms wildly.  He was like stood on a little sand island almost a mile out to sea. He was truly cut off and his island was getting smaller by the minute.

The Instructor/Pilot landed the helicopter on the sand about 20 metres away from the arm waving guy. As soon as it landed the pilot opened the door and gestured for the man to hurry up. I don't think the guy needed to be told that. He was already booking it towards the helicopter.

"Get in quick." the pilot said. Again I don't think he needed to be told that. He climbed in next to me and I was in the middle a bit squished against both guys. I noticed arm waving guy was holding a smartphone.
He'd realised he was stranded, he'd called 999 and asked for the coastguard, and the coastguard had radioed the instructor who was taking my lesson as he worked as a part time volunteer for air rescue.
Turns out they have 3 helicopters, the small one that I was in, a bigger one for bigger rescues, and a massive one that is also used as an air ambulance, (that one also has a landing pad on the roof of Preston Hospital)

So the pilot took off and headed back towards the airport. Both me and arm waving guy were looking out of the window at the sea completely covering the sandbank. The pilot was right. He did only have minutes and if he'd took the helicopter down to let me out it may have been too late.

So that's the story of how I once took part in an air/sea rescue. Remember, I did hold the helicopter steady while he took the call.

« Last Edit: 06:12 PM, 03/15/19 by Lyca »
Lyca